


Threes

by glackedandmullered



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood, haemophilia, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-10 00:51:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glackedandmullered/pseuds/glackedandmullered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say bad things come in threes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Threes

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Ah ot6 where michaels blood doesn't clot properly so any injury could be deadly
> 
> A/N fun fact (not actually fun) my cousin suffered from haemophilia all his life and we sadly lost him in an accident not long ago, his son has the same thing and so this prompt really kinda hit home for me and I hope I did it justice.

Since Michael Jones was a kid he had been careful. 

He had spent his whole life on the bench, never being allowed to play, never being allowed to step out of the house without his mother watching him like a hawk. He lived in elbow and knee pads, one step away from a full blown body covering sport suit, though he would never play, until he felt old enough to curse his mother out and tell her he wasn't doing it anymore. In other words 12. He looked on from the sidelines as kids went out to play in the street, the skate park, sports halls. As they made mistakes, slipped and fell; skinned knees and bumped heads. Michael looked on with wide, sad eyes as they experienced the world for all it was worth while he hid behind barely open curtains and a forest of warning tape. He was home schooled by his Mom, a fully qualified teacher, for the first 8 years before he sat her down, being a grown up far too young, and told her it was okay to let him go. He promised to be careful, packed up a school bag and left her, concerned eyes watching him all the way to the end of the street. 

Sure his Mom was being overprotective, she was exaggerating the risks to make it seem worse than it was but Michael still had to live with the fact that one mistake, a smile paper cut even, could be a serious danger to him. 

Haemophilia A, severe. Don't let the severe bit fool you, most diagnosed with the rare blood disorder were classified as severe. But it meant that any small cut could bleed for days, weeks, for some never completely healing, it meant a bump to the head could bleed into his brain and exert so much pressure on his skull it could damage him for the rest of his life, or even kill him. He'd been diagnosed at the tender age of four. One trip to the park, one fall from the swing set, one skinned knee that sent them to the hospital in a whirl of panic as their tiny little boy bled himself out on the carpet due to a wound that refused to clot and scab and heal. A lack of clotting factors in his blood meant that wounds acted differently to ones that other children might sustain. Normal children, Michael would think, late at night while his mom injected him with artificial clotting factors in an attempt to control the illness. 

It had taken a lot to convince her that he could go it alone. Taken everything he had in him to get on that plane to Texas, to take his dream job, to risk every bit of safety he had grown up knowing. He felt like he could be normal for the first time in his life, he could go out and drink, wrestle with his new friend Gavin and act like a little kid. Well it only took him 24 years. He stuck to his care routine, taking his medications and keeping a close eye on his own body, called his Mom every week to keep her satisfied that he wasn’t off killing himself for a laugh, and for the first time felt like he was living a life.

He had been forced to tell his boss, Geoff, just a month after joining RoosterTeeth; when he cracked a controller during a rage quit recording and a stray piece of plastic had sliced his palm open. He had immediately jumped up from his chair and told the older man, who was working on an edit at his own desk a couple of feet behind, that he needed to go to the hospital. Of course Geoff had laughed, assuming it to be an act of dramatics from the jersey man, but had stopped short when he caught sight of the seriousness on Michaels face, the panic in his eyes and the wound dripped blood to the carpet floor. He led him to the car, concern taking over him completely as the young man pointlessly held a spare shirt to the wound, watching in barely disguised horror as the cut turned the material deep red. He was sure the wound hadn't been that bad, just a mere scratch or at the very least something that would require a small dressing while it healed but, right before his eyes, Michael was slumped over in his seat looking increasingly dazed and dizzy by the second. He floored it to the hospital. 

He parked the car haphazardly, across two spaces and crooked but ignored the look on the attendants face as he tugged the wavering man over to the reception; they took one look at the bracelet he held up weakly on his wrist and seemingly summoned a team of nurses from the air. They took him away on a gurney and Geoff was left to stand outside the emergency room doors as they stuck an IV in the crook of the young mans arm with a large container of blood dripping into the tube. He was allowed in once the wound had been stitched and the colour had begun to return to Michaels face. 

After that he told Geoff not to tell anyone, specifically not jack, because Jack was a worrier. Jack would be a mother hen and wouldn't be able to resist fussing over him. Michael usually wouldn't mind, he loved that caring quality, it made him...well it made him Jack, but Michael had had enough of that fussing and worrying growing up. His request had turned into a plea for mercy when the 6 stumbled into a relationship. If he was going to be spending day after day with these fuckers then he was going to do it without the mother hen syndrome following him around. He taught Geoff what was okay and what was not, when he needed assistance and when he could handle it himself. The worst things were the joint bleeds, a symptom of the disorder whereby he would spontaneously start bleeding into his joints; for Michael his shoulders were the biggest culprits. It meant he would be sore for days at a time; it would leave him laid out with a bag of ice on his shoulder leaving Geoff to come up with some excuse for him. Then he would suffer through it as painlessly as possible when they all returned home and he forced himself to keep his secret.   
He managed to keep it quiet for a good few months, he stayed away from anything sharp and kept as careful as he could, and with years of practise it wasn’t difficult. 

Of course he never counted on them getting snowed in. 

It was Texas. Scorching hot, ridiculously humid Austin, Texas. When white powder started falling in the night and the six woke up to a solid layer on the ground, cars and roof it had been a shock and awe moment.

"Ugh no, why?" Ryan groaned, the first to wake as always, he shoved the curtain aside sleepily.   
"What?" Jack asked, sitting up and giving the lads a shove to wake them as their alarm kicked in, loud and obnoxious.   
"It snowed." Ryan replied grumpily, sure enough jack could see the white flakes in the air as they continued to fall.   
"Thought you liked the cold?" Geoff laughed, rolling over and reaching out to Ryan, silently telling him to pull him out of bed so would actually leave the glorious warmth of his sleep sanctuary. He obliged, grabbing Geoff by the forearms and tugging him until the man fell face first off the bed and scrambled to his feet. 

"I like it when it's not hot as balls, never said anything about snow." He mumbled. 

Gavin, surprisingly, was unimpressed by the flurry of white all around. “Thought I’d left this behind in England” He grumbled, tugging on a third hoody as the other lads followed suit and Geoff poured coffee into 6 travel mugs across the counter. 

"I haven't seen snow like this here since I was a kid!" Jack revelled, eyes glistening smile huge as he shoved his feet into boots and stepped out into the crunchy white expanse of the driveway. 

“Okay, baby man, take your coffee and we can go.” Ryan laughed, thrusting one of the mugs in Jacks direction and taking a slow sip, letting the warmth flow through him as he slipped and slid on the frozen ground. 

They bundled into the car, heat blasted to maximum and vehicle moving slowly across the slippery road. Not many cars were about and Geoff guessed that a lot of people would be calling in sick today and he wished he could do the same; it was a Saturday so they shouldn’t even be working anyway, but there was way too much to be done for them to leave it until after the weekend.

It was going alright, the day was slow and quiet. Not many people were around the office building, even the ones who would normally be there had taken the day off to enjoy the first snow in years. It was alright that was, until the news casters announced the blizzard rolling in, warning everyone to stay inside, not to leave their homes or work premises until it passed. It was a nuisance, they weren't exactly thrilled to find out they would have to stay in the office, even less once they lost most of the power to the building. Backup generators whirring to life and giving them just enough power to get the lights working but not enough to run 6 computers simultaneously in one room. 

To top it all off, as they say, bad things come in threes. 

"Too bad you didn't bring your DS Michael, could be playing pokemon with me right now." Ray teased, holding up his pink console to Michael who, along with the other 4 were wracking their brains for something to do. They hadn't quite realised how obsessed with technology they were until it was no longer there. How cliché. The joke was on Ray when he realised that there was barely any charge left in the console and Michael mocked him for at least an hour after he had been forced to put it back in his bag and find something else to do with the others. 

Burnie poked his head around the door at about 5pm and the hope quickly faded from their faces as they caught his apologetic expression.   
"Sorry guys, looks like we're gonna be here a while. The worst is just arriving." He gestured to the window where they could see the snow whipping around in the howling wind, battering the glass and the streets outside.   
"Who else is here?" Gavin asked.   
"Just you guys, me, Matt and Barbara oh and Monty is in the warehouse. Everyone else either didn't come in or went home a while ago." Burnie shrugged and told them to hold tight, disappearing down the hall and leaving them in silence again. 

It was just after 6 when Michaels boredom got the better of him. The gents had found a deck of cards and were playing poker in the corner while Ray and Gavin argued over fuck knows what at their respective desks and Michael needed some space. He peered past the game shelves to the window where he could see the whirlwind of snow whipping past and stood up, telling everyone he’d be back in a bit, getting simple waving hand gestures as he left. Wandering through the warehouse he shivered at the onslaught of cold that had been trapped in the vast room and strolled idly over to their brilliantly designed Left4dead exit door. He pushed on the handle and frowned when he felt how stiff and solid it felt. He shoved it again, just wanting to get a look at the blizzard up close and for some reason, unknown to him, he didn't think to try the front door, or the studio door, or any other door that would have been easier. Frustrated he gave it one final solid thrust and felt the hinge give and the door slam open with the force of the freezing wind. He felt the flakes hit him at speed, feeling like tiny pieces of glass on his hands and face. Taking a step out into the bleak colourless world, he cupped his hands around his mouth and breathed on them, absorbing the warmth back into his hands. 

He was barely out there for 5 minutes when he heard a thudding slam behind him and his heart jumped into his throat as his brain connected the frozen dots, spinning on the spot he realised his fear was correct and he really wished he had asked someone to come with him. The door had closed behind him, jamming shut and he tugged on it but there was no hope, it wasn’t as easy to open from the outside. Especially with the force being exerted on it by the blizzard wind.

He groaned and wrapped his arms around himself, tucking his head down against the blistering cold he took fast crunching steps through the snow around the side of the building so he could hopefully knock on the AH office window and get them to let him in. 

Of course that wasn't the third bad thing, that was later, about thirty seconds later when Michaels foot hit a patch of ice hidden under the layer of snow and his legs slipped out from under him, pelting him towards the ground at speed. He felt every second, every inch of the jagged rock under the snow as it sliced through his arm. He felt the first spill of blood and a wave of fear washed over him, making him shiver from something other than just the cold that was seeping into his clothes as he lay on the ground. He lifted his right arm warily and swore loudly when he got a good look at the wound. It was long, about 4 inches and while it wasn’t drastically deep he knew it would lose him enough blood to be dangerous, maybe even fatal. 

He inhaled and exhaled a few times, drawing the frigid air into his lungs and trying to quell the panic, panicking wouldn’t help. Panicking would end with him dead, face down on the ground as the blizzard covered his body in snow. Logically he knew the only thing he could do was to get back inside and pray, fucking pray to everything , that someone could do something, anything to stop this being the end for him. 

He pushed himself up from the ground with his uninjured arm and held the bleeding limb upwards in the air, fist up to the sky as he staggered the remaining few feet to the office window. He rammed his fist against the glass and pointed desperately in the direction of the main door hoping the guys would notice his panic. He didn’t wait to see if anyone saw him, he continued his staggered steps to the main door and laughed nervously in relief as Jack swung open the door, wind trying to force it closed again and a voice shouts “What did you do?” to him as he lurches forward into the warmth of the building and they catch sight of the wound. 

"Geoff!" He yelled, holding out his bleeding arm and ignoring everyone around him as he seeks the only one who knows what this means. Geoff swings around the corner and a flash of something akin to horror graces his face for a moment before he steels himself and reaches him a just a couple of steps, drawing the injured man into his arms.

“Shit! Your…” He trailed off as Michael nodded, eyes wide and begging, pleading for Geoff to fix it somehow. 

"I'll get something to stop the bleeding!" Ray said quickly, rushing back into the room while Geoff led Michael slowly, hands gripping the man’s uninjured arm. 

"It's not gonna do anything." Michael admitted breathily, still trying to calm himself down with the flurry of people around him. “I have…haemophilia. It’s just gonna keep bleeding.” He hadn’t guessed that this would be the way they would find out but now that he had no choice but to tell them he had to do it quickly, and get them to quiet down so he could focus. Burnie thundered down the stairs, hearing the shouts from his office and feeling the sense that something was amiss. He collided with Ryan in the doorway and watched, questioning as Geoff attempted the best he could to help.

“What can we do?” Geoff asked, sitting Michael down on the couch. The redhead shook his head and pushed himself down to sit on the floor.

“Elevate…gotta elevate it.” Michael instructed as calmly as he could despite the pure panic he was feeling just below the surface. He gestured for Jack to sit behind him, The bearded man was the only one beside Geoff who looked steady enough to help in that moment. Besides maybe Ryan but he was across the room trying to explain to a terrified Gavin that Michael was going to be okay. He wished he could reassure his boyfriend himself, but in that moment with the snow rushing around outside and the warning still in full effect, he wasn’t entirely sure he could. 

It took a bit of manoeuvring and assuring words but finally they had Jack on the couch holding Michaels arm over his head as the younger man sat on the floor, leaning back on the edge of the white leather. Ray had pressed his hoody to Michaels arm despite his assurance that it wouldn’t do anything to help and Gavin was sat in Ryans lap against Jacks desk, whispering reassurances to his bleeding boyfriend. Burnie had wandered off with his cellphone, trying to get through to emergency services to find out what chances they had at getting an ambulance out in this weather. From the sounds of yelling and cursing from the hall it didn’t look good. 

Now that they had somewhat settled down, the pain from the wound was really starting to hit. He hadn’t felt it before, the cold had numbed it to begin with and then the struggle to get help had kept his adrenaline pumping and his pain at bay but now it was really hitting him how much it fucking hurt. The edges of the wound were jagged, he could feel that and the whole of his forearm was radiating heat. His world was starting to look grey around the edges and he vaguely laughed to himself at the memory of seeing through these eyes during video games when the character was close to death. 

Geoff paced. When he didn’t know what to do, when he was scared or worried he paced. He paced back and forth while keeping an eye on his boyfriend. 

“We have to get you to a hospital.” He announced, making eye contact with Michael for the first time and seeing the heavy lidded, dizzy gaze he was sporting. He could see that the blood loss was definitely starting to seriously affect the man and he was genuinely concerned that it was going to be too late soon. 

“No…Geoff we have to…stay inside.” Michael whimpered, stammering over his words as he woozily fought to stay awake. His was feeling so tired, so drained of everything and, as much as he wanted to concede and let Geoff take him away he couldn’t risk them getting hurt too. 

Geoff watched him carefully, his eyes were getting heavier and he was so pale he could have disappeared into the couch that he was resting on. 

His resolve snapped when Michael passed out. The blood loss and pain and just generally everything in the situation had finally got to the man and he couldn’t hold out any more, his eyes slid shut and he listed to the side, only being held up by Jack who was now staring at Geoff with terror in his eyes. Gavin began calling the lads name desperately, scrambling forward from Ryans lap, kicking him in the process, to Michaels side where he shook his shoulders and let the mans name leave his lips in quick loud succession but to no avail. The redheads eyes stayed closed and Geoff couldn’t take it any longer.

"Fuck it we have to risk it. I'm taking him to the hospital." He burst out, stopping his pacing and standing his ground on his decision. It was literally to the point of life or death in those seconds and, with every breath Michael drew in, he feared it may be his last.

"Geoff it's too dangerous!" Ray cried out, standing from his chair and peering out of the window to the storm still raging. Geoff leaned down to Michael and placed two shaky fingers to the pulse point in the lads neck, feeling the thready slow thump beneath them he swivelled around to lock eyes with Ray.

"If we don't get help he is going to die." Just like that the real gravity of the situation hit them like a bucket of ice water and their silence spoke volumes. Geoff got down on his knees and tucked an arm under Michaels shoulders and knees and, with Jacks help, raised with the unconscious man in his arms. The walk to the car was awful, cold and slippery as fuck, Michaels arm dripping blood into the snow leaving a horrid red trail behind them as he and Jack trod through the continuous white to his car. 

The roads were treacherous, Geoff had never driven in such bad conditions and he was eternally grateful that Jack had forced the man to let him come too. His presence was calming and reassuring and it kept Geoff’s heart from beating as fast as it wanted to. There were no cars on the road, he was driving alone, silent, the only sounds being Michaels ragged breathing and the occasionally comment of support from Jack in the back seat, arms wrapped tightly around Michaels body. Snow danced a whirlwind around the vehicle, tires slipping on the icy patches and it took all of Geoffs driving ability not to end up in a head on collision with a tree. 

When they finally arrived after a long, exhausting half hour Geoff tumbled from the car and sprinted to the ER reception, crying out for help and disregarding the looks he was receiving from everyone around. He screamed for them to save Michael, all his panic and fear bubbling to the surface and exploding now that he was finally somewhere that could actually help. 

Jack staggered through the automatic doors, Michael hanging limply from his arms and, Geoff noted with terror, that under the florescent ER lights he looked dead. 

A gurney was wheeled past him, knocking him sideways with the force and, in a flurry of activity and fast nonsense talking, Michael disappeared through the double doors across from them and suddenly all was quiet. Quiet being the continued sniffles of patients, moans, groans and complaints from assholes who couldn’t figure out why Michael was seen first. Jack pulled his into his arms as the dam broke and tears began to flood down Geoffs face. Knowing that they could have lost him, could still lose him was a slap to the face for Geoff and the man broke down in Jacks arms; he allowed himself to be lowered into one of the plastic chairs as Jack spoke soothing words of comfort to him. 

_He’ll be okay, love_

_They know what they’re doing._

_You saved him._

It wasn’t that long but it felt like a lifetime before they heard someone calling their names and looked up to see a young female doctor in blue scrubs and a long white coat motioning for them to follow her. They couldn’t stand fast enough and practically dove through the doors, feet almost tangling with each others as they did. 

“He’s okay. Thought I should start with that.” She said with a smile, her voice was light and soft and Jack and Geoff both let out the breaths they hadn’t realised they were holding.

“We’re giving him a transfusion of blood and we’ve got him on antibiotics to prevent infection. I want to warn you that he’s got a lot of wires and monitors on him right now and that might look scary but I promise it’s only to help him.” Her words were soothing and she pushed open another door, leading them down a short corridor with curtains pulled tight around beds. “You can go in and see him, we’re getting ready to transfer him to a ward and we’ll keep him in for a while we treat the blood loss.” Geoff choked, a sob escaping him before he could stop it. 

“Hey, look at me,” She said firmly, planning a gentle arm on his. “Any longer and it’s likely he wouldn’t have made it. You saved his life. You should remember that.” He nodded, covering his mouth with one hand and wiping at his eyes with the other. The doctor drew the curtains back around the bed and let them stagger across the threshold before tucking them closed again behind the men. 

She was right; it was fucking terrifying to see Michael surrounded by so much activity. Wires were clipped and stuck to every spare inch of skin, his right arm was heavily bandaged from elbow to wrist and a tube fed dark red into the skin. He had been changed into a light green gown and he was still pale as death but he looked safe. He looked like Geoff could stop worrying and focus on letting him get better now that he knew it was all going to be okay.

He collapsed into the plastic chair located beside Michaels bed and Jack put a hand supportively on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Geoff took Michaels hand in his, there was a wired clip on his finger and his fingers twitched as Geoff held it tight, smoothing his thumb over the skin. He lowered his lips to the hand and kissed it gently, lingering with his touch as if the man would fall apart without it. He just might. He had never known fear like that before, not when he was in school and his best friend had jumped off a roof for a dare, not even when he had been in the Army. It was pure unadulterated fear and he found himself croaking out reassurances. Whether they were for Michael or himself, he wouldn’t know. 

“You’re gonna be just fine love, everything’s alright.”


End file.
